The Fine Line
by MeRiByKu
Summary: the untold story of Bellatrix Black. There is a fine line between madness and love, how do yuo know when you've crossed it? Will be Bellamort in later chapters. Rated M
1. Chapter 1

A/N. This is an attempt at a fan fiction and it's my first so be nice please. Rated M to be safe, will be BellaMort in later chapters.

Disclaimer: I own nothing; J.K. Rowling is my god and creator.

Reviews are appreciated

* * *

The early morning sky was moist, dark blue velvet. The whiffs of fog rolled over the terrain in a playful pattern, each strand dancing around another. A young woman, no more than twenty, sat with her bare-feet dangling out of her fourth floor window. Leaning on one side of her open window with both nearly bare legs hanging out, one hand clutched around her wand and the other laying lazily at her side, was the second eldest daughter of the house. With her dark, heavy-lidded eyes nearly closed and her long tangle of black hair falling into her face and her head lulling towards to side of the window she looked nearly asleep. She was not. She was simply in thought. Getting up from her position in her window she sighed, pulled the fabric of her nightdress back down her legs and neglected her shoes. The door opened quietly, the most silent hinges in the house, and she slipped from the room. Knowing only a walk would clear her mind, she glided out of the house, she was simply another shadow on the manor's outer wall.

The paths of her brain were jumbled with decisions; she was at a cross-road. Her mother had basically thrown down the ultimatum this evening, chose a pure-blood husband soon or she'd be stuck with her mother's pick. She'd been out of school for two years now and was frustrating her parents with her lack of interest in finding a husband. She knew that if her mother had her way she'd be stuck with someone like, god forbid, Lucius Malfoy. She wasn't interested in being someone's society wife, her name would be remembered, she would become something. A great something, something to be feared and respected in this world. And, she thought, when they so much as say Bellatrix Black they will tremble.

If Bellatrix had her way, she would never be forced to settle down with someone she didn't even care for remotely, she'd be out in the world doing….something. Fighting for something she believed in, something that could do right by her family name. It was as though the sun had suddenly shone brightly through the dark dawn and infiltrated her mind, chased away the cobwebs. There was a man, whose name they would not speak, he was fighting for the values of pure-blood. Yes, that was it, decided Bellatrix. She was as determined and set on becoming on of his followers, the people who called themselves the Death Eaters, as she was on not marrying her mother's idea of a match. So convicted, that it was hard to tell she had only just made the decision.

* * *

Bellatrix awoke from the reminiscing. This was three months earlier. She had kept her self made promise, she has joined His ranks. Unfortunately, that did not sit well with her mother, resulting in a forced engagement to Rodolphus Lestrange. Oh well, she thought, I will never love him or care for him, and my mother will have no grandchildren until Andromeda was married. Serves her right, thought Bellatrix, forcing me into that.

Bellatrix was not only being cold and indifferent towards the man because of her disgust with the situation, but because she knew she would never be able to love him. Her heart was already wrapped around the one thing she would never be allowed to have. Him. She had felt a fondness growing ever since she began to read about what he had done, what he and his followers were doing, the new world being formed. She had convinced herself that it was only respect that she felt, nothing more. A desire to be a part of it all. The lying to herself only lasted until the she met him.

* * *

Narcissa knocked on her older sister's door, quiet at first, but got louder as no response came. "Bella! Bella, are you ready yet? The guests will be here in less than an hour and mother wants us downstairs to greet them."

"Not quite…but come in" she called through the door. Narcissa hesitantly pushed open her sister's door. As usual there was less lighting in her room then the rest of the house, but even in near semi-darkness, Narcissa could see her sister's hair silhouetted against the mirror, a light flickering in the mirror's reflection. Bellatrix's hair hung in front of her eyes, eyes that were focused on the match slowly burning and shrivelling away to nothing, only to pull out a new one and watch it slowly die. She had taken only one step to get ready, she was dressed. Granted, not in the dress her mother had approved. Her mother's choice was high necked, green, and barely gave any definition of curves. The dress Bellatrix had chosen was black, much tighter and form fitting, with a dangerously low V-neck that tied in a halter at the top.

"Bella you're not close to being ready!" Narcissa said defiantly

"You're right…" she put of a pair of black lace gloves that passed her elbows "Better Cissy?" She said mockingly.

"Oh yes, it makes that whole hooker look much more complete" She said sarcastically

"Hooker? A bit harsh now." Bellatrix said with a laugh. "Why are you in such a rush anyways? We have guests all the time and no one is ever this fussed." She turned away from the grimy mirror to look at her sister.

"Bellatrix, do you EVER listen? Ever?" Narcissa asked in exasperation.

"Occasionally, I do have selective hearing after all." She said with a smile.

"These aren't just any guests Bellatrix."

"Oh, so is mother trying to marry one of us off to them? Is that it?" She snapped back, her voice bitter, cold, and high.

"No, Bellatrix…it's…it's a…a…friend…of father's…the one…that the papers…they won't call him by name…" she said nervously fidgeting with the end of her sleeve.

"What? Why didn't anyone tell me? I would have been ready ages ago…" Bellatrix said as she rushed about the room getting ready.

"Well, if you listened you would know." Narcissa said testily.

"Either shut up and help me, or leave. You know where the door is." Bellatrix said disdainfully, as she dried her hair with her wand. Narcissa continued to dry her hair while Bellatrix applied make-up.

"Bellatrix, your make-up….it's a little much, don't you think?" Narcissa scolded.

"Don't worry…I know what looks right. Unlike you, do you even own eyeliner?" Bellatrix snapped back at her sister.

"Sorry for not being a little whore." Narcissa murmured.

"Oh, what was that Cissy dear?" Bellatrix said with a demented laugh.

"Nothing..." Narcissa said quietly, her discomfort of being in her sister's presence growing.

"Find me some shoes; I can never seem to remember where I leave them." Bellatrix said

"Well maybe if you actually wore them every now and again…" Narcissa's voice disappeared into the closet. "Here we go…" she tossed the heels to her sister.

"Do I still look like a hooker?" Bellatrix asked as she looked at the final product.

"Well, no, maybe a high-classed escort." Narcissa joked half heartedly. Bellatrix gave her a look that sent chills down her spine. If looks could put you in physical pain, that one would do it.

"Play nice sister dearest." Bellatrix said spitefully.

"You look fine; now let's go before mother decapitates us." Narcissa said rolling her eyes and heading for the door. "She's going to be livid I took so long, I was only sent up here to make sure you wore shoes."

"Don't worry Narcissa; she'll forgive you, her _perfect_ little daughter." Bellatrix voice cut like a knife fuelled by resent on the word perfect.

"Bellatrix, please, wear your shoes." Narcissa pleaded.

"Oh…well then if that's what mother would like…" Bellatrix took her shoes off after Narcissa left the room. She smirked at her reflection in the mirror and left the room knowing she would arrive for dinner just after their special guest.

"Well then…" Bellatrix whispered eerily. Her eyes were dark and hidden in the poor lighting, but deep within them there was a flicker of utter darkness. So dark her eyes seemed black, with hatred and with utmost dark intents. The light of sanity flickering out before it returned to a dim burn. "To hell with Mother dearest."


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: So sorry that this took so long, I've been super swamped with deadlines for school and stuff. You all probably know the feeling though! I was supposed to be reading 1984 for my AP English class, but I decided this was long overdue, so here it is. Obviously I don't own Harry Potter or anything of the like, that belongs to a certain saint named JK Rowling.

I know it's a short one and I'm so sorry. I just wanted to get it out there. I promise more length and development in the next chapter

A/N

Bellatrix walked slowly down the dark wooden staircase. Her fingers traced the intricate pattern of serpents and Black Family Crests interwoven together as she heard the voices at the door. She felt her mother's intense glare, it burned at her lateness, then flashing to her bare feet, it burned like hell unleashed. For a second, her instinct made her reach to the wand tucked into her waistband, then she got a hold of herself.

They were all looking at her now. All of them, Narcissa, obediently at her mother's side following her glare with a look of disapproval, her father watching his guests faces intently as if he was afraid that his daughter had upset them, and of course, the small entourage was looking at her. It was easy to tell that these men were all different from the expressions they wore. She easily recognised Lucius Malfoy who showed no shock at all since he had known her at school and already knew what to expect from her. There was a man her father's age with blonde hair that Bellatrix knew to be Mr. Malfoy, he showed slight surprise at her latest antics, but not much as he had met Bellatrix on many occasions before. The man who showed the most amusement at her was someone she recognised all to well and he made her want to run straight back to her room. Rodolphus Lestrange stood furthest back in the small group with a smirk on his face. How she loathed him and the idea of their marriage, she had already been thinking of ways to widow herself and make it look like an accident. Then something else caught her eye. Rodolphus was not the farthest back, there was another man in the shadows further behind the group, she could only assume that this man was the special guest that had everyone so worked up. He seemed neither amused nor bemused, nor did he seem to care for anything in the surroundings at all.

She had not seen his face, but she knew him to be extremely pale, her skin was snow but his was said to be colder, but not nearly as cold as his eyes. Of course, she only knew this from the newspaper clippings that made the mosaic above her headboard. They were jumbled together in no particular order, but only to the untrained eye. The center and most special clipping, in her eyes, was cut out of the paper the day she turned seventeen. It was a front page article with the date sitting just above the header in small black scrawl. It was larger then most of the rest of the Voldemort clippings, but that was not why it was awarded that middle spot, but because that was the day she was able to legally make decisions. She was able to legally blow her mother off and do something that would seriously disturb her, like following the man they wouldn't name. That was how it all started, but she knew deep down that she would have joined them eventually, she believed in pure-blood supremacy to the highest degree and was ready to violently force a new world into shape. Each group of clippings, as there was mini groups within the large group, had a certain time frame or theme to them. Only those which praised were closest to the center, the heart of the mosaic. The others were only there because of the information of what he was doing; sometimes she burned away the insults if they were all grouped together at the end of the article.

Bellatrix descended the remaining stairs and her bare feet hit the freezing cold floor. Neglecting shoes at night at the end of October seemed a little stupid of her now that her feet were so cold. Anything to anger her mother. Her mother coldly said "Well Bellatrix, it certainly is kind of you to _grace_ us with your presence. It would have been more appreciated several minutes ago."

"Well I was looking for the shoes you stressed I wear, but I couldn't seem to find them. Oh well." Bellatrix replied with a smirk tugging at her lips. Her mother shot her a glare before ushering the guests into the dining room. Lucius passed her and whispered "One of these days she is going to murder you."

"I'd like to see her try." Bellatrix responded cockily with a smirk playing at her lips once again. He looked at her feet and shook his head before murmuring "Only you…have you ever heard that it's cold in the fall?"

"Oh, is that why everything starts to die? I had no idea. Thank you so much for enlightening me." She replied sarcastically before being seated with her sisters. She neither liked nor disliked Lucius, they came from similar families and were similar themselves, but she didn't care much for him. People that valued their hair above all else had some issues.

Narcissa sat to her right, Andromeda to her left. Dromeda was a year older then her, Narcissa had just finished school and was younger. Dromeda was her favourite sister, they were closer in age and nearly twins, though Bellatrix was darker looking then Andromeda. Narcissa didn't seem to fit well with the two elder sisters, she was vain and her mother's perfect daughter, while Andromeda and Bellatrix were individuals and strong spirited. Narcissa would re-shape her mind to anyone's will. The perfect pureblood wife.

Bellatrix rolled her eyes, a gesture not missed by Narcissa who was quick to stomp on her foot. Bellatrix mumbled an insult under her breath. After a smothering dinner Bellatrix quickly excused herself into the garden and began to roam in the darkness. She heard the door crack open behind her and quietly whipped around with her wand aimed.

"Easily spooked are we?" came the man's voice. Bellatrix knew this to be the voice of the men's leader, the Dark Lord they called him.

"Spooked, paranoid, which ever you prefer my lord." Bellatrix said with a half bow towards the man. She felt foolish for an act that couldn't be seen in such pitch black, and thanked Slytherin that she could blush freely without it being seen in the night.

"Are you always so quick to raise your wand Miss Black?"

"Well….yes my Lord, I am…" she stuttered out.

"Good. One cannot be too careful in a place on the verge of a war. Although, you would know all about that."

Bellatrix was both intrigued and furious at the same time. Was this something she should know all about and her mother saw it fit not to let her in on the secret? More then likely it was. But, what was he talking about. She knew all about his stance on blood and that magic is only deserved by those of the purest blood. She knew that his group were going to force muggles in submission.

Suddenly it occurred to her that there was truly someone out there opposed to the natural order that should be in place. They were the ones about to start a war. It all made sense, no thanks to her mother. How on earth could _anyone _oppose such a brilliant man? She felt her admiration for him growing and illuminating the night in her mind.

"Yes, a war," She said slowly "I suppose you must be gathering quite a following among us."

"Indeed. All the pureblood families have taken up arms. All except one."

"And who has the nerve to do something as horrid-" She was cut off

"Yours"

Her heart skipped a beat. Her father had refused the Dark Lord? Had he gone mad?

"Your father isn't in proper health; he cannot possibly fight a war." Those words stung, her father had let her down, and she had no brothers to carry on their family honour.

"Then please my Lord, take me instead." The words were out of her mouth before she had time to register what she was about to suggest. How could she, a girl, possibly be of any worth to him?

There was a long pause during which the Dark Lord seemed to be studying her, considering her.

"You believe that a woman such as yourself could prove as useful as a man? That you are a fit replacement?" He asked

"I'm the only one the family's got." Her answer was simple and honest "And I know I have twice as much gut and passion for our blood status then half the pure blooded men do as it is."

Her words hung in the air for a while before he spoke

"Well, we shall see Miss Black"

Then he was gone, and she was left to contemplate the consequences of the words she had uttered. She took a deep breath and thought to herself that she would much rather spend her life loyal to him then her own husband to be. At least he was better looking.


End file.
